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[@Write] [@HereComesTheSnow] [@FlitterFaux][/center]

[color=9e0b0f]"[i]Trust me,[/i] you can't [i]possibly[/i] be adjusting more than I am at this second."[/color] Now that the dorm was filling up, and Jer was being faced with the breakdown of all his move's predictability, he walked over protectively to his things. His eyes fell on the three photographs, but he didn't move them. Instead he reached for the lone open box of clothes, where the imprints of the three photographs were still faintly visible in a stack of folded shirts. He reached for the top fabric and pulled it out of the box; it was no shirt at all, but a matte black face scarf, faded slightly brown from age and wind.

He let out a long, deep breath. The fabric rolled through his fingers and slipped back into the box.

[color=9e0b0f]"Look."[/color] He turned around to face the two Beaconites, face inscrutably neutral. [color=9e0b0f]"I would rather take a jack-knife off that balcony right now than sleep in the same room with either of you. Especially for a sustained amount of time." [/color]

His teeth chewed, very slightly, on the corner of his bottom lip.

[color=9e0b0f]"But I would rather be here than return home a pancake. So I'm not going to question this until someone questions me. Are either of you team captain?"[/color]